Good Night, Neal
by Deanstiel's Daughter
Summary: Neal has a run in with the same drug Good Night Cinderella. Peter proves once more that he's always there for his best friend.


ONESHOT

Neal Caffrey didn't know how it happened. He just knew it had. The guy next to him at the bar had made sure to time it just right so that the substance truly affected Neal right as he got home to his apartment. June was asleep and most of the lights were off save for the one closest to the door which she always left on for Neal when he got home from his unpaid work. Neal smiled to himself and flipped on a nearby switch, illuminating the area above the stairs before taking them two at a time up to his place.

He felt the strange sensation of dizziness overtake him once he reached the top stair for a mere moment and he stumbled, holding onto the wall and attempting to keep himself upright. Something was off. He could sense it, but Neal played it off as tiredness and opened the door to his little room and went inside. He shed his hat first, placing it on the hook it usually rested on by the mirror. Next he hung up his coat and took off his suit jacket, placing each article of clothing where it belonged. He gripped the wall again. The dizzy feeling returned and Neal felt as though he was losing all control of his balance. He remembered the man's words, slurred through his mind like paper bags drifting in the wind on the many streets of New York City. Neal shook off the thoughts and went to get more water. He was thirsty as hell despite all he had drunk.

Neal could barely grip the glass without shaking. He felt something was wrong, deep inside of him. It didn't sit right. He was hearing voices and seeing people that weren't there anymore. He could only recall one other time when that had happened. Mozzie had made him take a similar version of a drug which had been used on him by a psychiatrist looking for money and an easy scapegoat. She had told Neal to explore his deepest subconscious and reveal to her his true nature and in doing so he had also accidentally revealed the information of a federal investigation. Neal had been so ashamed for his mistake that he hadn't initially wanted to go to Peter and Elizabeth Burke and confess, but the drug had ruined his inhibitions as it was now.

Neal clutched his chest. His heart was slowly beating faster. His palms were starting to sweat and his shirt was growing wet under the arms and in the chest area. Neal ran his hands through his hair and focused on staying upright once more. Mozzie was nowhere near his house and it was late at night. Peter and Elizabeth both had work the next day, as did Neal. He swallowed hard and bit his lower lip. He didn't want to disturb them or June or Mozzie or anyone else. He simply wanted to wait it out. He wanted to try and fight his thoughts. He didn't want to think about what could have happened at the bar. He imagined a million scenarios ranging everywhere from simply walking out to being touched anywhere the man who had given him the drink would've desired to touch. Neal felt sick at the thought and crept away towards the bed.

It didn't take, but an hour for the drug to really hit him and Neal was curled up near his bed on the verge of tears. He lifted a trembling hand and slowly dialed a familiar number.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Peter Burke cursed when his phone went off at two am, but once he saw the number his anger receded. He could only wonder what Neal wanted at two in the morning, though.

"Neal," Peter groggily answered. "It's late."

" _I-I know,"_ Neal sounded off and Peter could tell almost immediately. His slumber faded away and he perked up. " _M'just s-so scared..."_

Neal's slurred words made it hard to understand him, but Peter did his best. Elizabeth awoke and blinked a few times before listening in on her husband's conversation. His worry was evident.

"Why are you scared Neal?" Peter asked, trying to keep his CI talking.

" _I dunno w-what's goin' on,"_ Neal was fumbling to find the right words and struggling to stay awake. " _I was gettin' a drink a-and then this guy was talkin' ta me and smiling at me and then I went home and now I-I'm scared!"_

"Neal," Peter said. "Did you accept a drink from a stranger?"

" _Y-Yes..."_ Neal sounded like a child being punished.

"Damn it Neal," Peter cursed and Neal swallowed hard, feeling like he'd let his best friend down once more. It hurt to be talked to like Peter was talking to him. "Where are you?"

 _"H-Home,"_ Neal slurred worse, the steroids not kicking in yet. " _I-I should find ya..."_

"Neal," Peter ordered him. "You stay put. Do not leave wherever you are. I'm coming to find you. I think you've been drugged."

 _"Huh,"_ Neal said. " _S-Seems appropriate, t-the screw up gets drugged again. Poetic justice i-if ya ask me."_

Peter ignored Neal's blatant digs at his own self esteem and quickly got dressed, explaining to a tired Elizabeth about what was happening. Elizabeth understood and smiled. She hoped Peter found Neal and she wouldn't rest until they were both safe. Peter nodded and grabbed his keys, sprinting out the door at Neal's next words.

 _"M'gonna die, Peter."_

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Neal wasn't actually going to die, but he sure felt like he was. He was shaking uncontrollably and lying in a puddle of his own sweat. Tears had turned his cheeks red and the underside of his nose raw as he continued to cry even after hanging up with his handler. He didn't want to show weakness, but he could hear her voice, the therapist's voice.

 _"You're on your way to becoming a fully fledged sociopath, Neal Caffrey."_

 _"You're locking a door you can't reopen."_

 _"You only care about yourself."_

 _"You're becoming less of a human every single day."_

The first stung so damn badly. Fresh tears flowed. If only she could see him now. Sociopaths didn't cry. They felt. They felt things like he could, or could he? Neal was so unsure he shook harder in his corner and cowered the second a pair of strong hands touched him. Neal yelped and jumped towards the bed, hitting the back of his head and hissing in pain.

"Neal," Peter's gentle voice broke through his thoughts. "Neal it's me."

"D-Don't touch me," Neal's voice sounded so timid and small that Peter almost jumped to too many conclusions. Tests could wait, for the moment he needed Neal back. "M'a disgrace."

"Neal," Peter kneeled down and looked into Neal's piercing blue eyes, wet with tears and red around the edges. "I would never hurt you. You're not a disgrace. Where is that even coming from?"

"I dunno," Neal replied. "M'just tired and truthful."

"I can tell," Peter sat down next to his CI, watching his every move to make sure he didn't need to make an emergency trip to the hospital. So far Neal was going to be okay. Peter could tell the amount of the drug used was the same amount Mozzie had given Neal the second time he'd taken it. "How did this happen?"

"Some guy talking ta me," Neal said, leaning his head against the bed frame. "He musta put it in ma drink."

"I'm sure," Peter replied, sighing deeply. "What did he say to you?"

"Nothin I can 'member," Neal said. "I just remember the psychiatrist telling me the truth."

"What truth?" Peter asked.

"The t-truth 'bout myself," Neal swallowed, tears falling again from his burning eyes. "M'a bad man."

Neal sounded like a broken toy unable to be wound up again and Peter's heart hurt. He hated to hear his best friend speaking about himself in such a way. Neal was crying. Neal never cried. Whatever that woman had said to him was sticking with him and impacting him deeper than one glass of water could for a short amount of time.

"Neal," Peter explained. "That woman lied. You're not a bad man."

"Yes I am!" Neal exclaimed. His shirt was soaked with sweat and his shaking had become extreme, but more from chills than the drug. Its effects were starting to wear off and the sleep would come soon. "She t-told m-me I was a sociopath! I don't feel, she said! I don't feel a damn thing a-and she was right for a long time!"

Peter blinked. He'd forgotten about the truth syndrome aspect of the drug.

"Do you feel things now?" Peter asked.

"I-I feel alone," Neal admitted. "I feel scared and alone and I'm always t-terrified I'm gonna wake up in a jail cell in an orange jumpsuit again before I can tell the world I'm sorry. Before I can prove t-to them I'm not a screw up."

"Who?" Peter pressed, wanting to know how to comfort his friend.

"M-My family," Neal stared into Peter's eyes. His eyes were glassy and barely held the strength to stay open. "T-They don't love me."

"Yes they do," Peter nodded. "Of course they do. You know why?"

"W-Why?" Neal asked as Peter helped to lift him up off of the ground. Peter sat the young CI down on the bed and stripped him of his wet shirt. Neal hesitated at the thought of being touched, but Peter was gentle and did not pressure him to do anything he didn't want to do. Peter helped Neal into bed and kept his head up so that he could comfortable slide in.

"You have a new family," Peter explained like he was talking to a small scared child. He didn't want to, but he couldn't think of another way to put what he wanted to say. "You're not alone. You have the white collar team. You have Mozzie and Elizabeth and Satchmo the loyal dog and you have me Neal. I'm your best friend. I'm never going to leave you all alone."

Neal suddenly launched himself at Peter with all of the strength that he had and hugged him. He continued to cry and cry as Peter held the younger man in his arms. He felt like more of a father than a friend, but he wanted to fill whatever role Neal was lacking that night as best he could so he ran a hand down Neal's back and held him close. Neal gazed up into Peter's eyes and then buried his face once more. Peter was the closest to any kind of friend or family he'd had over the years he'd spent locked up. Mozzie hadn't even stuck by him in the same way and he hated to put anybody above his first con man friend.

Neal's fuzzy thoughts started to come into focus, but his body betrayed him. He felt a new heavy weight in his bones which were crying out in pain and weariness. Neal slumped against Peter without meaning to and Peter caught him. He would always catch him. Neal remembered Peter's promise as he blinked a few times before his eyes started to close.

"Where have you been all my life?" Neal asked and Peter helped him lean back against the pillows and adjusted them for his comfort. Peter stayed on the edge of Neal's bed. He moved some sticky bits of hair from the con man's forehead and smiled at him.

"Hunting you down," Peter answered. "Looking for a partner and a friend in all the wrong, yet right, places."

"I-I'm glad you did." Neal blurted out. "I love my new family Peter."

Peter smiled fondly at Neal as the CI shut his eyes and drifted off to sleep. Peter shot a quick text to Elizabeth telling her that Neal was safe, but he was staying with him until he woke up. Elizabeth understood completely and wished them both a good night and saying she loved the two of them. Peter broke into a bigger smile and he put his phone away, glancing over at Neal once more.

"We love you too, kid." Peter said even though he knew Neal was out cold.

 **Reviews are appreciated!**

 **I SPELLED HIS NAME RIGHT THIS TIME I PROMISE!**


End file.
